


help me get to sleep

by sxndazed



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23918086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxndazed/pseuds/sxndazed
Summary: The silence keeps him up.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Kudos: 32





	help me get to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Brief mentions of medication and suicidal ideation

The silence keeps him up.

He didn't realize when he became so used to the sounds of traffic and sirens throughout the night, but the stillness of the night when he returns back to Ohio leaves him feeling a little lost.

The noise helps. It drowns out that voice in his head that's often too loud for its own good.

It also helps that his days in New York are often packed with classes and rehearsals and meetings that leave him feeling exhausted, bone-deep tired, and wanting nothing more than to sink into bed.

But right now, in the summer before his last year of school, he is left with not a lot to do, especially in Ohio.

He indulges himself. How can he not, with all the time he suddenly has? He goes out for runs in the early mornings and makes it back in time for when Kurt cooks breakfast. He lies on the couch with his head in Kurt's lap, and his fingers play a few measures of a piece on his thighs. Kurt's got a hand in his curls, and his fingers lightly tangle themselves in them. The humid heat makes his eyes droop and he doesn't want to move, but other times they take advantage of an empty house and the free time to kiss and touch and explore what they usually can't.

Sometimes, he heads over to the tire shop with Kurt and watches him help Burt while sitting on a stool off to the side. He sits at the table when they have dinner and jumps between conversations and shares a couple of stories here and there. They sit on the couch with something on the TV and sometimes a plate of whatever baked good Kurt (and sometimes Blaine) made that day. As the night winds down, Burt and Carole head up to their room and leave them cuddled on the couch. He usually dozes off around 11 and feels Kurt tug at the sleeve of his shirt to urge him to get ready for bed. They share the sink, and their shoulders brush against one another as they brush their teeth and run through the skincare routine Kurt has laid out for them.

They curled up in one another under a thin sheet despite the warmth of the summer night. They talk sometimes, discussing what happened during the day or what plans they have tomorrow. Sometimes, talking turns into kissing and into hand jobs or blowjobs with light laughter at how they need to be quiet because it would be tacky to be caught now. Sometimes, Kurt will fall asleep first and Blaine is left alone in his consciousness.

Sometimes like this very moment.

He always tries to close his eyes and force sleep to come. He knows it's better than playing around on his phone, and his eyes will thank him in the morning. But his head just doesn't want to shut up.

He thinks about what he has left before graduating. He thinks about the classes he's looking forward to and the others that sounds  _ awful _ but that he's required to take. NYU is a dream, but it's still a stressful one that makes him wish he was done.

He thinks about the call he got from his mom earlier in the day and how she asked if they could reschedule the lunch they had planned for the weekend and how his father wouldn't be able to come. He thinks about the way she bulldozes through before he barely gets out a "yes" and how she ends the call without a single mention of Kurt, despite the fact that he'll be there.

He thinks about how the appointment he has scheduled with his therapist when they go back home is both too soon and too far away. He thinks about how he needs to make an appointment with his psychiatrist because the meds are sort of working, but they're not working as well as he wants. He thinks about how it's been nearly two years, and it  _ fucking sucks _ that he still feels like shit sometimes.

He lets his mind spiral out into too many thoughts. He thinks about how nice it was to be at the tire shop and how ice cream at the shop two blocks down sounds nice for tomorrow, but then he thinks about how much his head hurts and how everything he's doing doesn't feel like it'll amount to much.

And in the recesses of his mind, he wonders why he even bothers to begin with. He wonders why he tries when his parents make him feel like he's still trying to earn their love and his medication has changed around three times and still doesn't work how it should and his therapist somehow gets him but also misses the mark completely.

Logically, he knows. He knows that his parents are like that, and it would be foolish to hope for anything different after 22 years. He knows that medications react differently in people, and it can take several tries to find the right one. He knows that if his therapist isn't working for him, then he should find a new one because why should he settle for anything less?

But why should he deserve anything better?

He lets the thought of wanting to die appear in his mind as quickly as it disappears. His eyes well up and tears run down his cheeks as he silently sobs in shame at the thought. He doesn't want to. It's ironic that he thinks about death when he's deathly afraid of it. He still has things he wants to do. He still wants to make art and help people in whatever capacity he can. He still wants to see things on Broadway and eat cronuts and drink coffee in the mornings and spend his life loving Kurt-

_ Kurt. _

He looks over and sees Kurt's sleep-lax face and lets out an aborted sob. How could he think about that when Kurt is right there, next to him? The shame washes over him, and the tears pour out without abandon. He feels them run down his cheeks, sometimes down to his ears and sometimes down his neck. It's hard to breathe, and he tries to keep quiet, but it's  _ so hard. _

His hands come up to his eyes and press down as though the pressure could make the crying stop. He sniffles and his head starts to ache, and  _ God, _ why can't he just fall asleep? His whole body heats up, and he starts to sweat a little, and everything feels  _ so so so wrong- _

"Blaine?"

He lets out a whimper and hears the sheets shuffle as he's pulled into Kurt's arms. There's a hand rubbing over his chest and his arms and a hand gently twisting his curls and massaging his head. Blaine chokes out sobs and sniffles and rubs at his eyes, but they don't speak. Kurt keeps his arms around him and the soothing motion of his hands slowly calms Blaine down. It takes several minutes, but his crying turns into small hiccups and his tears are mostly dried off. Kurt's thumb rubs against his hip for a while before he speaks up.

"Another bad night?"

Blaine nods.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Blaine shakes his head and feels Kurt's arms tighten around him.

"Tomorrow?" he croaks out.

"Yeah, okay. Yeah."

His breathing calms, and the soothing motion of Kurt's hands bring him down. He feels a press of lips on the back of his neck and tugs at Kurt's hand until he's able to hold it. It'll be too hot tomorrow when they wake up, and they'll probably separate in the middle of the night, but he needs this right now.

Kurt's grip loosens moments later and Blaine can feel the puffs of air he lets out hit his neck. He closes his eyes and focuses on the rhythm of Kurt's chest behind him.

They'll talk about it tomorrow, probably in the early morning. His eyes will be puffy, and the sun will filter in and make it harder to hide, but that's how they'll want it, how he'll want it. It's impossible for him to hide from Kurt. They'll talk and Blaine will cry, but he'll feel good about it. He'll go on his run a little later and come back to a cup of coffee and a kiss, and the day will continue. It always does.

For now, he sleeps.


End file.
